


A Kiss to Forget, A Kiss to Remember

by ConstantlyTiredReader



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Awkward Meetings, Childhood Sweethearts, Cute, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Enemies, Language, M/M, Sort Of, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22999117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantlyTiredReader/pseuds/ConstantlyTiredReader
Summary: Innocently shared when they were kiddos, neither Stretch or Edge remember their first kiss. This wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that the forgotten kiss follows them through their lives.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Spicyhoney
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	A Kiss to Forget, A Kiss to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to apologise in advance for inconsistent nicknames used for characters (mostly the Papyri) based on differing POVs. I'm pretty sure it's all fairly obvious, but that could just be me because I wrote it.

The whole different worlds thing is trippy as fuck, but damn if Red has ever seen his baby bro so happy.

Toddling around with the other Papyruses, Paps has been in his prime here in Blue’s world. Here, he can be as loud as he wants, yelling along with the little creampuff as the tall little shit lies curled up on the floor between them, napping through the chaos. And yell he does. A lot.

Hopefully, when they get back home tonight, the kid’ll actually be able to sleep for once.

Leaning against the front door, Red keeps watch over the situation. It may not be as necessary here, as the other Sanses keep insisting, but fuck if he will ever put his little bro in danger while he’s up and kicking. Something that the others probably get, if to a lesser extent. 

Those two have it easy.

Speaking of his fellow older bros, little boy Blue is running around, collecting sippy cups and half-eaten snacks, picking up abandoned building blocks. Not for the first time, a spike of jealousy hit Red hard. Between the three of them, Blue probably has it the easiest. Besides the whole “safe” world thing that he and Comic share, the whole swapped thing that gives him energy by the bucketful and Stretch the desire to nap twenty-four-seven seems like a real plus. If Red could steal even a bit of that energy… 

“Juice! Juice! Juice!” the creampuff chants. Soon, Red’s bro joins in, both of them running circles around Blue’s feet.

“manners, kiddos,” Comic scolds half-heartedly. Red’s eyes narrow; he hadn’t realised his alternate was even awake. For the past half hour or so, he has been on the couch, buried under a mountain of picture books. Storytime only lasts so long, and book stacking apparently became the more fun option about six stories in.

“Juice! _Pleaaaaaaaaaase!_ ”

“There we go,” Blue smiles, handing over the goods to both sets of outstretched hands. “But remember: we sit down for juice and snacks.”

Finally, the tall little shit wakes up, blinking slowly with sleepy sockets; apparently, there _is_ a limit to the amount of screeching the ankle-biter can stay zonked out through. He cringes at the noise, waddling away to the other side of the room to plop himself back down with a bright orange blankie.

If that ain't too fucking relatable.

The next few minutes are relatively chaos-free. Or, as chaos-free as it gets when dealing with two hyperactive and one hypoactive toddlers. Because of this, Red doesn’t mind letting his attention wander off. Mostly, he just wants to take advantage of Paps’ distraction to exchange some jokes with Comic. Who knows the next time he will be able to say a pun without getting an overly loudly shrieked “NO!” of dismay from his baby bro.

Red stifles a yawn. With the promise to help make lunch — which _clearly_ can only end in minor disaster — Comic’s bro has sprinted over to the kitchen with Blue. Chances are, Paps will join them; he usually does, eventually.

Except, his little bossy boots of a bro isn’t going towards the kitchen. Instead, he is marching to the other side of the room, arms stubbornly crossed, to Stretch. To his credit, the tall little shit remains completely unfazed. The closest he gets to giving a reaction is staring curiously at Paps. 

Honestly, Red can’t blame him.

“I like you,” he loudly proclaims, going right up in Stretch’s space before just… headbutting him? With the front of his face?

The fuck?

“Oh!” Blue squeals in delight, running out from the kitchen. He snatches a disposable camera from a side table and heads over to take a pic or five. “How cute! Their first kiss!”

Kiss… Red squints, tilting his head. Yeah, now that he takes a good look at it, that’s definitely what’s going on between his bro and Stretch. Paps is even holding Stretch’s face, nice and gently; no accidental injuries from sharpened fingertips or too firm grips here. Red can’t hold back a bemused chuckle as the little babybones loudly emphasises his actions with an affectionate, “Mwah!”

Huh. 

Where did Paps learn that?

Paps steps back, the absolute picture of proud satisfaction. The little shit has the exact same expression as he did the first time he made a good, strong bone attack. ‘I did it!’ is what it all screams, which is probably the funniest part.

Yeah, he sure did.

Stretch’s eyes are wide, understandably so. At this point, it seems like a fifty-fifty chance of him laughing or bursting into tears. Hopefully, it will be the former; Red is _not_ ready for the headache of dealing with Stretch crying because statistically speaking, it will start a chain reaction of waterworks. No one wants to deal with that.

But then, plot twist of all fucking plot twists, the sleepy little guy stands up and delivers a big smooch of his own. 

Well then. 

Good to see that the feelings are mutual?

Thankfully, the kiss attacks don’t go any further and no one needs to pry the little ankle-biters apart. Business taken care of, Paps wanders off to the kitchen, delivering a loud, “Bye-bye, Stretch!” as he goes. Blue follows him, setting the camera back in its spot and yeah, Red’s gotta make sure he gets himself a copy of those pics. So gotta use that shit for brotherly blackmail someday.

For his part, Stretch waves back at Paps, a wide smile on his face. He then climbs onto the couch, curling up happily before going back to sleep. 

Cute.

By the time comes for them to return home, Paps has managed to work off a lot of that never-ending energy of his. Feet dragging through the snow, he looks up at Red and smiles.

“I like Stretch.”

“really,” Red snorts, picking up his bro into a piggyback. They’ll be back in their world any second, and it will be easier to get them to a safe zone if he isn’t waiting after Paps and his little legs. “i would’ve never guessed.”

“Well, I do,” he affirms, obviously missing Red’s sarcasm. His pointy little chin digs into the top of Red’s skull as he mumbles. “A lot.”

“i’ll be sure to keep that in mind, lil bro. now, shut up and go to sleep.”

And apparently today is the day for infinite surprises, as he actually does for once.

* * *

Standing tall beside his brother — Red here, not Sans like at home — Edge waits for the door to open.

He goes on tiptoes, smiling as it brings him to his brother’s height. He is almost taller than him. Just a little longer! But more importantly, it lets him see things better. Now, he can actually practice his lessons and check out their surroundings!

So far, the only thing he has noticed is that this Underground is just really weird.

Edge _knows_ he has been outside of his home before; that’s part of the reason he has his secret code name that he is supposed to use instead of Papyrus. However, all of his memories of the other worlds are fuzzy. He was a real babybones, after all, the last time Sans — no, _Red_ , that’s the code name and he needs to get used to using it — let them use the machine. 

On the way over, Red kept telling him that things are “safe” here. Edge didn’t really believe it. He still really can’t believe it, even after they had walked all the way through Snowdin town in broad daylight and absolutely no one had tried to attack them. Maybe the Sans and the Papyrus here have made themselves really strong and people are scared to attack monsters who look like them? Maybe. Who knows.

At least this Underground smells nicer than his. It’s nice and clean, like when he is able to have bath day on the same day as laundry day and nothing is dirty or dusty. This Underground is also a lot louder, but not in a bad way. Home, when it’s loud, hurts. There’s a lot of screaming and stuff. But here, the loudness is nicer. Calmer, almost, even if that doesn’t make sense.

It’s all really weird.

Finally, the other Sans opens the door, with the other Papyrus in a bright orange shirt peeking over his shoulder. He’s already taller than his brother. No fair.

“Red! Edge!” The other Sans — Blue, Edge thinks it was — says before bursting forward. Edge flinches, unsure of what to do when Blue wraps his arms around both of them. A hug, he realises a second too late. “It’s so good to see you again!” He steps back, a bright smile on his face as he turns to face Edge. “And you! You’re just growing up so fast!”

“yeah,” Red agrees, nudging Edge in the ribs. “he’s a real pain in the ass in that way.”

“Language, Red!”

He shrugs. “whatever. yer gettin’ pretty tall too, stretchy boy.” Edge assumes he means the other Papyrus. 

A very familiar smile makes its way on his brother’s face. That’s the evil smile of Red being annoying. The last time he made that smile was this morning when Red had rigged the entire area surrounding his bed with those annoying japes of his.

Edge’s suspicions are proved true when Red slings an arm over his shoulder, noogying his skull. “y’know, paps,” he says, annoyingly ignoring all of his attempts to escape his grasp, “you two were each other’s first kiss.”

Edge freezes, staring at the skeleton in the bright orange stripes. Right now, he’s pretty sure that the other kid’s face is a perfect match to his own, and not just because they are both Papyruses. He looks shocked, and Edge can almost hear the thought that is running through his mind.

Through both of their minds.

_Gross!_

Why did Red have to say that! It’s gonna make things _weird._ Now, for the rest of the day, he is going to be wondering why he would ever let someone like that kiss him. 

He probably has cooties.

Before he is done dealing with all the _ew_ from that one sentence, Red pushes Edge forward. “see ya, squirt. don’t do anything to make blue here dust ya.”

“I would never!” Blue protests, although it is hard to hear over Edge’s shout of “Be safe, brother!”

“yeah, yeah,” Red calls back, bringing a smile to his face. All along, Edge knew that _he_ was going to be okay here in this world; Red wouldn’t bother bringing him here if that wasn’t the case. 

Even if things are now really weird with the new Papyrus.

As soon as Red is out of sight, Blue ushers him inside the house, chattering about all the fun they will have today. “Here,” he says, reaching forward to Edge’s scarf, “let me hang that up for you.”

Edge takes a step back, clutching his scarf close to his chest. “No!” His brother gave him this scarf. His brother _made_ it for him and put his magic in it to help protect him. Taking it off when Red isn’t here, even if it’s just for a little bit… He doesn’t want to.

Blue just nods, giving him a shaky smile. Did he say something wrong? He doesn’t have too long to think about it, though, because the older skeleton continues, “Well, I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes to play while I get snacks ready before lunch.” Edge’s jaw drops. Snacks _and_ lunch! These guys have enough food for both of those things?! Wowie. “Holler if you need anything.”

That leaves Edge alone with the other Papyrus — Stretch, he thinks Blue said. He still hasn’t said anything, not even hello. They both stare at each other. And stare. And stare some more. Edge is half expecting Blue to return before either of them do anything like go play. 

Finally, Stretch does something. Grabbing a book — a big book, which looks pretty similar to one of the sciency ones his brother refuses to sell, no matter how desperate they are — Stretch sits cross-legged on the floor. Keeping his eyes focused on his reading, he tilts his head off to the side. 

Oh! 

Cool!

Edge hurries over to the race car track. Three cars sit at various points, waiting to be played with. He picks up the closest one, bright red and shiny. One wheel is kinda wobbly, but it still rolls pretty far down the track. 

“the green one has a remote control.”

Partially because of the information, partially because of the fact that Stretch actually said something, Edge looks up. “What?” 

“the green one,” he repeats. Setting his book down, he scooches over and picks up a black rectangle thing that is just a little bigger than the cars. When he flips it over, Edge can see a few switches and buttons. “want me to show you how it works?”

“Sure!” It isn’t every day he gets to play with remote control cars.

Stretch nods and moves to sit beside him. Quietly at first, he starts explaining how the toy sometimes works funny. That isn’t too surprising, considering it’s a human toy; human things usually don’t work right by the time they get to the dump in Waterfall.

Soon, Blue returns with apple slices and cheese. Most of the awkwardness from Red mentioning his first kiss is forgotten, cool toys and somebody to share them with taking up most of his concentration.

For now.

  
  


* * *

Leaning his chair back on two legs, Stretch stares at his asshole of an alternate.

Paps, he can deal with. He’s chill. Energetic as fuck, sure — no one can deny that — but so is Blue. The point is, they’re cool. 

Edge though… 

Ugh.

He and Edge get together like orange juice and mint toothpaste at the best of times. Oil and water. Sharpened nails and a chalkboard. Whatever other examples of things that really shouldn’t go together and yet here they are, alone in the kitchen together.

Stretch doesn’t get why Blue thought it would be a good idea to have him help Edge in the kitchen. First off, this isn't even their house; if anyone should be in here, it should be Paps. But also, _seriously_? In what universe is this a good idea?

Most of his early memories of Edge are vague. The awkward kid in dark, tattered stripes who had never heard of Stretch’s favourite board games, who dashed in front of him and Blue, red hot bones summoned when Dogaressa stepped outside of the shop to offer them cinnamon pups, might as well be an entirely different person. Sure, Stretch can remember seeing the same scowl on a smaller skeleton’s face, but this one is so much more bitter, so much colder, angrier.

So much worse.

All the different worlds Stretch has seen, shocker of shockers, are pretty damn different. Visiting this Underground is a bit of a mindfuck, a literal backwards day situation every day. Stretch understands that; he isn’t an idiot. Edge’s and Red’s home is obviously a bad place. There is a reason any visiting tends to happen here or in his and Blue’s world.

However, even with the differences between their worlds, there is _nothing_ that can convince Stretch that the staggering amount of dust on this shit’s hands is justifiable.

As for how much dust that is, precisely, Stretch can only guess. He has never made an official Judgement, tearing him down to nothing to examine his guilt with a fine-toothed comb. Not for Edge’s sake, mind you. Stretch honestly couldn’t give a solitary flying shit. No, it’s more that Stretch doesn’t want to see the details of his alternate’s sins; even without looking, he can tell deep down in his soul that the numbers are higher than any he has seen in his homeworld. Is it selfish? Hell yeah. But has it worked just fine until now? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Besides, Stretch doesn’t need to have exact death figures to know that Edge’s LV is way too high.

An aura of darkness follows Edge wherever he goes, a chill of LV that just begs for the Judge’s opinion. As a kid, Stretch doesn’t remember that sensation. Which, from what he can tell, means one of two things: either Edge stacked all this up in the past few years, or Stretch simply didn’t notice back then and Blue let a homicidal child into their house.

He isn’t sure which thing is worse.

Smoothly, Edge sidesteps his chair to start laying out cutlery. Stretch half expects to get a cuff to the head as he passes back around the table, but nothing happens. Not that Edge has ever laid a hand on him — he has threatened to, but Alphys has honestly threatened far worse on the various times she has caught him slacking off — but still. The jerk is pretty rough on Red, after all.

Then again, Red’s just as rough on him, if not more so; he doesn’t have to worry about Edge’s HP. And it isn’t like Stretch has never roughhoused with Blue and vice versa. Gentle hugs and high fives are fun and all, but there’s a time and place for some good old sibling rowdiness.

And now that the old hamster wheel has started running down _that_ particular pathway, has Stretch ever actually seen Edge act murderously? At all? The critical part of him has to say no. It isn’t like he hasn’t had the chance to scatter some dust; he is more than competent. 

But he has never gone for it.

Has Stretch seen him angry and tense and on edge? Sure, all the damn time. If he looked up right now, he is confident he would find that exact combination written all over his face, especially since Stretch is supposed to be helping right now. But this is the monster who will often storm off in a huff when the quarreling between them gets vicious instead of escalating the situation. The monster who always sticks to words when fighting with him, even with the intense scars covering his body serving as visible proof that he could easily shift it into physical violence. Who refuses to spar with Blue, even for fun.

Like he is holding himself back.

… huh.

Edge sets the first dish on the table. A salad, something he has spent a pretty large amount of time on, considering it is mostly chopped vegetables. He didn’t have to make it. He didn’t have to make anything tonight, actually; today was Paps’ day to host, which meant it was his turn to cook. But Edge has always been weirdly insistent about doing his fair share, even if they never meet up at his place. 

Stretch always assumed it was because of pride. Someone like the Great and Terrible Papyrus surely would never allow himself to be outdone by lesser people, right? 

Maybe. Looking through tonight’s fun new window of clarity, however, provides a very different picture. A picture of someone who genuinely _wants_ to help. If he was doing it for the prestige, the consistently high effort wouldn’t be there, would it?

Nope. 

At this point, he has to admit it: Stretch has just been proving the good old saying about assumptions when it comes to Edge. 

Across the kitchen, Edge leans against the counter, arms crossed. The lasagne is still finishing up in the oven, the timer brightly announcing that there is a solid 2 minutes before it is ready to be taken out. With the table completely set, there isn’t much for him to do at the moment.

Other than watching Stretch, that is.

Usually, Stretch would interpret that action as his alternate glaring daggers at him. As for how he would react, well, it depends on the day. Two could easily play at that game. Could, of course, being the keyword. Sometimes, ignoring him was the more satisfying response; why give the bastard the attention he wanted, negative as it may be.

Now, though… His gaze is still intense. Those red eye lights burn like a laser through his bones. However, the purpose is different. There is nothing overly hostile about it. No. It is more an act of calculation, his observation almost as strong as a Judge.

Almost.

Curiosity gets the better of him. Edge may be a pissy jerk — no amount of sudden revelations are going to change that, in his opinion — but hey, a lot of people are. Clearly, Stretch is also a jerk. Maybe they can learn to bond over their mutual jackassery.

“What —” _the fuck_ he carefully forces himself not to say, as it might actually be useful to avoid going out of his way to aggravate the dude if he wants answers, “— do you want?” 

Edge raises a brow, saying nothing. The prolonged beep of the oven timer only goes to redirect his attention, leaving Stretch sitting in silence. 

Well, it was worth a shot.

“… I’m thinking.”

Stretch looks up. Tenser than usual, Edge reaches for the dial to turn off the oven. Avoiding eye contact, he realises. Great.

Hoping that this doesn’t turn into a game of twenty questions that will get them nowhere fast, he prompts, “about…”

Quietly, almost so quiet that Stretch struggles to hear him despite being only a few feet away, Edge says, shockingly honest, “I was wondering why I had decided to kiss you, of all people.”

Right.

That was a thing. Blue even managed to snatch a pic of the event, pasting it neatly into Stretch’s baby book with the bubble-writing label of “Papy’s 1st kiss! ♥”. If it weren’t for that photo — and that time Blue babysat Edge when they were in stripes and Red decided that telling them that they were each other’s first kiss was a _great_ way to reintroduce them — he wouldn’t have even known that the incident happened. It isn’t like he can remember much from that age. Although, Red has made sure to give him too many details that absolutely no one asked for to fill in the blanks, solidifying his status as an asshole. To paraphrase, Edge was the one who chose to swap spit and boy, was there a lot of it.

Until now, Stretch had done his best to forget the incriminating detail that he had apparently chosen to return the favour.

Stretch could be offended by the implication of Edge’s thoughts… but nah. No point in feeling insulted when he has been lowkey wondering the same thing himself since their first meeting as adults. What was so different when they were kids, that they decided to do that?

And a tiny part of himself asks, should they ever decide to do it now, what would it be like?

Even before today, Stretch knew that he didn’t need to like Edge to know that he was more than a little hot. When he’s not wearing his full murder suit, he sticks to those _tight_ black jeans, ripped in all the right places. They sit low on his hips, giving an optimal view of his hips. And there’s something about where that big, shiny belt buckle sits, just drawing the eye down to the pelvis… yeah.

He doesn’t know where the words even come from. Well, from his big, dumb mouth obviously, but what in the angel’s name would ever compel him to saunter forward and ask, “wanna find out?”

As soon as he processes what the hell he just said, Stretch has to resist the instinct to smack himself in the face. Of all the stupid things to say… There is no way that this won’t make things worse. Not with the stunned expression on Edge’s face, because of course he would be shocked. ‘Wanna find out?’ is not how anyone would respond to something like that.

Anyone other than Stretch, that is.

Edge walks across the room, gesturing for him to stand up. Gulping, he does; he dug himself into this hole, now he needs to get himself out. How, exactly, is the question.

“Is that an invitation?” he asks, closing the rest of the distance and placing his hands on Stretch’s shoulders and okay, this was not the plan, not that he is complaining. Nope, not at all.

 _Especially_ not when a warm mouth, sharp teeth gentle and teasing, cover his big, dumb mouth, preventing him from saying any more stupid things.

He could get used to this.

* * *

“What about this one?” Blue asks, holding up a movie for Paps to see. After almost three years of all the machines getting back being safe enough to use on a regular basis, they have worked out a good system for movie night: Blue scans the lower shelves and Paps the taller ones. It may not be anything fancy, but what works works.

Before Paps gets the chance to look, Red pops in, shortcutting him to the living room without as much as a “hi blue. you cool with me grabbing your arm?”.

“look, but be quiet,” he hisses through his teeth, shoving him at the half-opened kitchen door. Not one to question Red too much when he is in one of his moods, Blue complies. 

At first glance, he can’t see anything but Paps’ ridiculously tall sink. Turning to the right, though, allows him a glance of his brother and Edge.

…

“It’s about time,” he whispers to Red, taking half a step back. “I was wondering how long it would take them to clue into their feelings. All this fight-flirting was leading nowhere!” As much as he loves his baby brother, watching him and Edge circle around each other at every occasion was getting exhausting; as smart and good at reading people Papy may be, he is absolutely, completely clueless when it comes to reading himself.

“i dunno… seems like it worked out just fine to me.” Red pauses to waggle his brows. Not for the first time in his life, Blue wonders how they are supposed to be the same person. He continues, “but i know what you’re sayin’. i was _this_ close to shoving the two of ‘em in a fucking closet to work things out.”

“Why do you think I left them alone in there?” Blue asks dryly. A closet; honestly! Edge and Papy might have been oblivious, but it wasn’t _that_ bad.

Red holds out a fist, which Blue gingerly bumps. “nice. wanna give the others the news that supper’s gonna be late?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

His brother and Edge have several years of things to work through; it would be best to leave them at it in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I can personally attest to the fact that being introduced to the kid of the person who will be babysitting you for the day by being told, "oh yeah, he gave you your first kiss" as an 8-year-old makes for a super awkward time. At least both of us also had our younger brothers who we could also play with. But yeah, that was a weird day.
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://constantly-tired-reader.tumblr.com/) and [my Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/ConstantlyTiredReader)! Feel free to visit at any time for updates, to talk or to find out some of my random, mostly sleep-deprived thoughts.


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